hallzee
Nov 28th, 2007, 7:40 pm
The man who taught me to ride has reached the end of his watch. Don Hall was my father, and he had his own brand of BRC (Beginner Rider's Course), when he taught me to ride his '73 BMW, when I was 16 years old.
For weeks, I had to tool around his training course at the high school parking lot, while he drilled me on slow-speed manuevers, progressing to practicing panic stops, all the while pounding into my head countless safety tips. I pleaded that I was ready for the street - but I wasn't allowed until HE thought I was ready.
He preached ATTGAT before helmets were law, and because of him, I have walked away from two get-offs with only bruises.
Pop passed away at age 78 on Saturday, November 17th. It was unexpected, and I spent a couple of days crying like a three year old.
On Wednesday of last week, my mother was worried about all his email buddies sending messages to him, and getting no reply. She asked me to try to figure out how to get into his computer, and get a message to them all.
When I “hacked” my way in (Dad’s password wasn’t hard to guess, it was the pet name he used for my mom for 55 years!), I found a poem that my dad had left on his desktop for us to find. Although this won’t keep me from missing him for a long time to come, it did help me to come to terms with losing him. I’ll pass this along, because it may help you one day, should you lose someone you love:
When I come to the end of the day
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love we once shared
Miss me, but let me go
For this is a journey we all must make
And each must go alone
It’s all part of the Maker’s plan
A step on the road to home
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me, but let me go.
Author Unknown
For weeks, I had to tool around his training course at the high school parking lot, while he drilled me on slow-speed manuevers, progressing to practicing panic stops, all the while pounding into my head countless safety tips. I pleaded that I was ready for the street - but I wasn't allowed until HE thought I was ready.
He preached ATTGAT before helmets were law, and because of him, I have walked away from two get-offs with only bruises.
Pop passed away at age 78 on Saturday, November 17th. It was unexpected, and I spent a couple of days crying like a three year old.
On Wednesday of last week, my mother was worried about all his email buddies sending messages to him, and getting no reply. She asked me to try to figure out how to get into his computer, and get a message to them all.
When I “hacked” my way in (Dad’s password wasn’t hard to guess, it was the pet name he used for my mom for 55 years!), I found a poem that my dad had left on his desktop for us to find. Although this won’t keep me from missing him for a long time to come, it did help me to come to terms with losing him. I’ll pass this along, because it may help you one day, should you lose someone you love:
When I come to the end of the day
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love we once shared
Miss me, but let me go
For this is a journey we all must make
And each must go alone
It’s all part of the Maker’s plan
A step on the road to home
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me, but let me go.
Author Unknown